That's Not My Last Name
by Corgibutt
Summary: After being literally torn away from her life and plopped into parts unknown, our young protagonist has many challenges to face. Some appearing to be most ominous and threatening. She must also deal with the fact that everybody refuses to call her by her real last name. What a bummer.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Rewrite of an old crappy fic into something a bit more acceptable. It'll be a bit slow the first two chapters but after that the story takes off and the plot starts to reveal itself. Enjoy!**

"God... I can't concentrate today..."

A young woman was sitting in a hard and cold desk at school. High school to be exact. You know, the place where it'll be the best years of your life? You go to proms and parties and all of those fun things. High-school isn't the funnest place for some though. There are others who positively despise parties and having to deal with intense amounts of social interaction. Some who would rather stay at home or hang out with a very small group of friends, maybe even just one friend. They could all just sit around and talk, watch movies, play games, and stuff their faces with various fattening foods. Now that's what filled the bill for particular individuals. Such as the young woman sitting in the uncomfortable desk, taking a test. Geometry to be precise.

"You have five minutes left to finish your tests," The elderly teacher informed all her students from her desk. The young woman, who is currently the subject of interest, absolutely loathed that teacher. Her lessons were frustrating, and she spoke faster than anybody could write. The young woman speculated the teacher expected them to already KNOW the material so she wouldn't have to dumb it down at all.

"Damn it, five minutes... screw it I'm gonna fail anyways..." The young woman muttered softly under her breath as she jotted down a few answers she made under quick assumptions. This would most likely be another test she'd have to retake. But who cared? It was Friday. The most important day of the week in any busy highschool student's life. Friday meant staying up late and not having to worry about homework until the last minute on Sunday. It was a beautiful thing.

After hastily writing her name at the top of her test, the young woman slid the paper onto her teacher's desk. "Thank you, Peyton," The elderly woman said with a sweet smile. Peyton, the young woman that is continuously being mentioned loathed that smile. She hated how forced it looked, and how much it was laced with less than kind feelings. Well, that's what she assumed anyways. That was Peyton's problem. She constantly made assumptions about people and their actions. Peyton was a very paranoid girl, who always thought someone was out to stab her in the back.

The rest of her monotonous school day went on as usual. A choir class, some foreign language lessons, a spot of lunch, speech class, and her day was done! Oh yes, she felt pure joy when that bell finally rang. Freedom from school at last! Peyton collected her school supplies, which were very disorderly mind you. Every paper she had recieved throughout her school year so far, she had stuffed into a big pink binder. And not once did she clean it out. So papers were constantly threatening to fall out and spew everywhere. It would certainly create a disaster in the hallway if she were to ever drop it!

Thankfully, no such incident occured as she rushed to her locker. She fiddled with the rusty combination lock for a moment, and then pulled open her locker. After forcing a few items in and pulling out her purple backpack, Peyton grabbed her puffy red winter coat and slid it on. "Finally, I'm going to get so much sleep this weekend.." Peyton mumbled to herself. Peyton had a bad habit of talking too herself far too often for comfort. But perhaps it allowed her thoughts to take more shape.

Peyton shoved a knitted hat onto her messy, short, and bright red hair and headed for the large front doors of the school. Her small and freckled hands forced each set of doors open. A chilled wind hit her face as she walked outside. Winters in South Dakota were often very cold and full of snow. It was one of the first snows of the season. Three inches of it hit the town just the other night. Luckily, Peyton had prepared for such weather. She had her boots with faux fur lining them, her winter coat, and her knitted hat with flaps that covered her ears. Peyton was used to the cold, since she had lived in harsh conditions such as this since her birth. The extremely cold winters, and the hot and muggy summers. Nothing she couldn't handle, as long as she had the appropriate clothing for it.

Peyton started walking down the sidewalk that was dirtied with snow. As she crossed a few crosswalks she tried her best to avoid getting run over by inexperienced teen drivers who were in a rush to get home. If there was one thing that would ruin her Friday, it was getting ran over by a car. After safely crossing the most dangerous part of her walk, she let out a tiny sigh of relief as she always did. She'd have to find some way around that soon so she no longer had to risk her life trying to get home.

While walking in her usual route to reach home, an uneasy feeling washed over her. As if she was being watched or followed. She visibly shuddered a bit as a chill creeped up her spine. Peyton looked about to see if anyone was watching her or possibly taking the same route. There wasn't a single soul around. Peyton sighed a little and returned to walking. Peyton assumed it was just her paranoia acting up as usual.

As she felt a wet and smelly cloth being forced into her face, all that self doubt seemed to blow away with the wind. Her immediate reaction was to kick and flail, trying to get out of the arms of her sudden attacker. After managing to wrench the clothed hand out of her face, she let out a loud and shrill squeal to alert somebody of what was going on. She pleaded inside her head for someone to have heard it. "Stop it! Let go of me!" She shrieked as her attacker tried to force the cloth over her face again. Peyton wasn't going to let someone take her. She'd keep on fighting and screaming, until someone came and saved her!

All her efforts were for naught though. She was easily pulled back into the attacker's grasp, and once again the cloth tainted with a foul chemical smell was forced over her mouth and nose. Peyton was small, and not that strong. So of course it'd be easy for someone to overpower her. Her cries were muffled as her attacker began to drag her away. Peyton still continued to resist. She put all her weight into her legs and made her body limp. This made it somewhat difficult for the attacker to take her, but he still managed to drag her across the snowy ground. Peyton continued kicking at his shins and trying to force the cloth away. Her attempts started to become weaker as her mind and vision started becoming hazy. Tears welled in her eyes as she truly believed this was the end. This person was going to take her away and do something terrible to her; be it murder or rape. Soon, everything drew to a blank.

When reality returned, it hit her hard. She felt exhausted, and her body was like lead. It took a great effort to move any part of her body. Her thought process had been handicapped as well. She couldn't think clearly, all her thoughts were little random drabbles and observations. None of them made sense really. People with deep voices were talking, no bickering to one another. Their voices were hushed whispers, but their tones were panicky and angry.

"Why would you bring a kid!?" The voice of an older man hissed.

"It was the only person we could find on short notice! He doesn't have a lot of time left and we're out of options here!" A younger voice retorted.

Peyton groaned a little and tried to sit up. Her body still felt heavy, so it was too hard to even try. Plus, her mind was far too fuzzy to give herself any self-motivation to try and get up. So she just let her back fall back down to the hard surface she was laying on. As she lay there, she could hear another person groan too, followed by hacking and coughing. Whoever it was did not seem to be in the best shape at all.

"He can go at any second! We have to do it!" The young voice shouted.

There were quiet murmurs and a little bit more arguing before a bright light was shined over her. Peyton squeezed her eyelids shut. She even felt too weak to even turn her head away from the light. An ice cold hand touched her belly and slid her shirt up, stopping before it went to her chest. Peyton shuddered a little and squirmed.

"Okay, this is going to hurt a little. But please stay still," The older voice told her in a soft and calming tone. If she was in her right mind, she would have struggled to the very end. But she wasn't, so she just laid there and didn't move. A sharp pain hit her side. She gasped a tiny bit as the ebbing pain increased. Something cold and metal was being used to carve something into her flesh! Peyton whimpered and started moving slightly, some energy starting to return to her. Strong hands quickly held her down though as the carving continued. Peyton began to struggle more vigorously.

"Give her more chloroform," the older man ordered. Once more a cloth was forced over her mouth and nose. Her mind blurred and everything faded.

**AN: I'd love some reviews, but I understand if you're too lazy too or didn't like the fic. I know that feel man.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Sorry another boring chapter. Chapter three shall be a bit more exciting.**

The first smell that entered her nose was the scent of disinfectant. Peyton slowly opened her heavy eyelids. They were greeted with a white, squeaky clean room. A hospital room perhaps? Her head was pounding and a wave of exhaustion washed over her. "Fuck.. what happened..." she mumbled in a gravelly voice. Peyton felt an intense pain in her right arm... no there was no right arm. This was troubling. As her brain began to process this, panic began to show its face. She was missing an arm! It hurt a lot too. The only reason she wasn't screaming in pain was because she felt almost numb. Peyton figured she had been given drugs. "Hey... is someone here..?" She called out as best as she could, hoping to find out what had happened to her limb.

A dainty nurse walked in upon hearing her calls. The nurse smiled with her pearly white and straight teeth. "I see you are awake Ms. Elric. How are you feeling?" The nurse walked over and checked a few machines to see if everything was in tip top shape. "That's... not my name.. and I feel like complete shit... what happened to me, where's my arm?" Peyton asked in a pitiful and weak voice. Peyton was honestly pathetic at the moment.

"Oh my, you don't remember do you Ms. Elric? Well you got in quite the nasty accident. Luckily some gentlemen were there to save you just in the nick of time. And don't worry, you'll be fitted with a prosthetic soon enough."

"What, why are you calling me Ms. Elric? That's not my last name..." Peyton was getting rather confused now. Had she been mistaken for someone else? "Oh dear, I'll call in the doctor to check up on you."

Suddenly, a group of men walked into the room. They adorned odd blue uniforms with badges and stars on different places. One man who seemed to be leading the group walked over to her bedside, looming over her in an almost intimidating manner. "Ms. Elric. We're here to bring you back home." As he said Elric, he stressed it as if he wanted her to play along. Peyton raised her eyebrow at him slightly as the nurse began pulling different cords off of her. There were a couple things she liked to say to him, and none of them were very polite. But Peyton bit her tongue, feeling anxious in the presence of these unknown newcomers.

After finishing the task of completely disconnecting her from all the machines, the nurse smiled again and helped her up. She handed one of the men a tube of ointment. "Make sure she puts that on every couple of hours for a few weeks to prevent infection." Then she gave that sickly sweet smile and walked out. Now, it was just Peyton and the men in the blue suits. Peyton was leaning on the railing of the hospital bed as she looked at them. "Uh... hi?" She said quietly.

"Let's go kid." The man held a grimace as he grabbed her shoulder and started practically dragging her out of the room. She stumbled and almost fell if not for his strong grip holding her up. They were stopped in the hallway by a doctor telling them it was a requirment for patients to leave in a wheelchair. So Peyton was plopped into a wheelchair and wheeled out of the hospital. Peyton had so many questions and complaints to shout at the rather rude men. But again, she held her tongue. Saying anything to these strange and mean looking people would require her to muster up a great deal of courage. And well, Peyton was still a little out of it.

The next thing she knew, she was being set inside a sleek black car and the driver drove off. "H-huh? What?" She said quietly as she looked around. The inside was pretty nice, the upholestry on the seat was definitely expensive looking. "T-there must be some mistake..." She tried to get the driver's attention but he was too focused on the road. She mumbled more questions and worries but none were answered or heard. As they continued driving on, she noticed a large airport in the clearing. Where exactly was she being taken? After they pulled up to it, Peyton saw that on big letters on the building were the words "East City Airlines" Was that some sort of city she'd never heard of? Possibly. Where in the world was she though? Was she even in South Dakota anymore?

After the driver parked the car, Peyton was once again pulled out and dragged inside. But oddly, instead of going through the horrendously long process of airport security and such, she was pulled onto a plane right away and plopped down onto a seat. The plane was smaller than most commercial planes and there weren't many people. But everything was fancy and expensive looking. Perhaps a private jet of some sort? Peyton didn't know. There were a few other people on the plane. More men in blue uniforms mostly. But there was also a particularly odd looking girl, sitting in her seat with her feet reclined on another seat and texting.

Peyton sighed and turned her head to stare out the small window. People were scatterted about and rushing to prepare the plane for lift off. Peyton buried herself deeper into her seat and looked down at the empty sleeve that should have housed her arm. Suddenly, she felt the weight shift in the next seat. She glanced over and saw that the strange girl with light blonde hair done up in pigtails was staring right at her. Peyton scooted a bit away from her. "Hiya! So who's your dad?" The overly peppy girl asked.

"Erm... what?" Peyton couldn't even think of how to reply to that. "Who's your dad? He has to be important for you to get on this plane~! Or, wait! Are you important?" The girl was now leaning at an uncomfortable distance to Peyton's face now. Peyton was pretty tired of this bullshit that was happening. She reached up a hesitant hand, and gently pushed her face back a little.

"C-could you uh, please back up a little bit? I'm uh, not feeling the greatest right now.." Peyton explained as she nervously fiddled with the end of her shirt. The girl just leaned a little closer again. "My dad is a general, so that's why I get to ride in here. Oh and also my name is Kali! What's yours?"

Before Kali could squeeze any answers out of Peyton, another man wearing a blue uniform walked over. "Ms. Nordbye, please refrain from disturbing Ms. Elric." A confused look came upon her face as she looked at Peyton for a few seconds. Then realization hit and she flailed a little. "Elric!?" Kali got very close again. "Tell me everything you know," She said in a hushed voice. "What the.." Peyton mumbled and pushed her away again. Kali was literally torn from the seat by the man and forced to sit on the opposite side of the plane. That didn't stop Kali from staring at her the entire time. Peyton just kept her eyes glued to the window and tried not to look. Eventually boredom caused her to become tired and she was lulled into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry this took so long! School has kept me busy. Now I am on break so I'll update a few times~**

Her peaceful and quiet nap was short lived as she was suddenly, and rather violently, shaken awake. Peyton's tired eyes jerked open, only to be greeted by the face of an older man who was hissing at her and shaking her. "C'mon get up," he said in a low voice. Peyton pushed his hands off and sat up straight in her seat. A small and dull pain resided where the man had gripped onto her in order to shake her awake.

"I'm awake, I'm awake. Jeez," she mumbled quietly. Reaching up a hand to her face, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. There appeared to be a sort of urgency in the air, so it felt necessary. After her vision came into full focus, she could see that practically everyone was off the plane. Peyton must have slept through the entire trip. What time was it? Where were they? When were her mother and father coming to get her? Before she could voice her concerns, she was pulled to her feet and dragged off the plane by the grouchy old man.

Peyton stumbled and fell multiple times, but never hit the ground. She was always kept on her feet by the old man. Although he didn't do so gently. He always pulled her up by her shirt and muttered, "God can't you walk properly you damn kid," under his breath. Her clothes were wrinkled and a little stretched by the time they reached the exit of the airport. The outside greeted them with a freezing wind that instantly made Peyton shudder a bit. The puffy red coat she always wore had been lost when she woke up in the hospital. Her white teeth clacked together as she shivered once more. The old man had pulled out a cell phone and was talking to someone. "You come pick her up, I need to get back to base!" The old man shouted into the phone. She strained to hear what the voice on the other end was saying.

All she could make out was the jibberish of another man. She was too far to hear exactly what he was saying. "Uh.. what's going on?" Peyton asked. The man ignored her and played with his phone. Why did nobody listen to her here? Damn it all, she just wanted to go home! An anger boiled in the pit of her gut. Why was this happening? Why was this happening to her!? She hadn't done anything to deserve it! Her arm was gone, how did that happen!? Couldn't somebody answer her at least!? Peyton believed she had the right to know who these people were, what happened to her, and where she was.

"I hate you all so much, take me home." She had been wanting to voice that phrase multiple times now. Then again, Peyton didn't have enough guts to do so. So like any reasonable person would do in a situation like this, she held her tongue. A black car pulled up in front of them, sleek and expensive. Peyton squinted and tried to peer inside, to see who could possibly be in it. To no avail, since the windows were tinted to prevent people from doing so.

As Peyton leaned closer to try and sneak a peek inside, the window rolled down. It almost caught her nose since she was so close, but thankfully she was able to dart her head back before it could. As the window lowered, Peyton could see sleek black hair. The color of ebony keys on a piano one might say. The girl couldn't help but gawk as the face of a handsome young man came into view. His face was like porcealin, the only imperfection was a scar running along his cheek. His eyes were murky brown depths. Her face became tinted with pink and she looked down at her feet.

She could hear her heart pounding inside her chest. Peyton couldn't even look at boys she found attractive. It made her so nervous, she thought she'd have a heart attack right then and there. The man was also intimidating too. The way his face looked, made it seem like he was glaring hatefully at everything and telling it, "Go die." She could feel her legs trembling and shaking violently.

"Get in," he snapped in a deep and sharp voice. Peyton flinched, feeling as if just his words were like a smack in a face. Peyton reached for the door handle, and then felt a meaty hand grab her shoulder. Her rage bubbled in the pit of her gut again. No no no no no no NO. She would not be manhandled ANYMORE. "Eat shit," she hissed darkly at the old man. He blinked a few times, surprised that the small girl could use such foul language in a dark and demanding tone. In the time that he sat there shocked and confused, she had grabbed the handle and opened the door. The man slid over in the leather seats to make room for her and she got in.

The door was shut, and the driver started up the car. They began going down the street, leaving the old and washed up man alone on the sidewalk. "Quite the mouth you have, don't you? Mister Fullmetal Alchemist. Ah, or rather, Miss Fullmetal Alchemist. If that even really is you. Where did they leave the seal? They left that part out in the reports." The man rattled on and on. Wow, this man just seemed to do all the talking. Before Peyton could answer one question another was shot at her, and another. "Uhh.." That was all she could get in. Suddenly a hand shot out at her and grabbed her shirt. Her instincts told her to jerk away. Before she could do that, she was pinned against the seat. "Just let me see the seal, jeez," he uttered as he lifted up her shirt.

"ACK!" She shouted in protest and grabbed at his hands. His eyes raked over her young body, searching for the seal. He spotted it on her hip and sighed. "In such a vunerable spot? Those idiots." His fingers slowly traced over the seal that had been etched into her flesh. It was an intricate circle, that only the most intelligent and thoughtful alchemists knew. The seal to anchor a soul to a body. "We'll have to do something about it. Keep it safe and don't scratch it, miss frilly bra." Peyton's face burned and she reeled her only hand back. A powerful blow met his cheek, and he jerked his head back for a moment. A deadly silence filled the air as Peyton waited for some sort of retaliation. And the young man did not dissapoint. He smacked her right across the face. The hot sting made her wince and cry out.

"Don't you dare fucking hit me, after all I've done for you," he warned darkly. The young man grabbed her hair and fisted it up in his hand. "No!" Peyton shouted, trying to stop him. It hurt, badly. She had a sensitive scalp so the grabbing of her hair brought her much pain; so much she could feel tears well up. He pulled her close, so close she could feel her breath on her flesh. His hot lips touched her cold ear, creating a warming sensation on it. The sound of his breathing banged against her ear drums. "Ungrateful brat. Do you have any idea, ANY IDEA, what I've had to do just to make sure you got here? What I've sacrificed, how I've lowered myself? No. So SHUT UP AND DO WHAT YOU'RE TOLD." His voice was shaky and held unbridled rage as he said this. Peyton felt terror dart through her mind and she stopped trying to struggle. Struggling would only make it worse.

After finishing his anger induced rant and simmering down, he let out a heavy sigh and let her go. He scooted further away from her and crossed his bulky arms with a huff. "Learn to respect your superiors." Peyton could only sniffle and nod while fighting back her sobs. It was hopeless, everything was hopeless. Her life was over. This was all she could know now. A heavy knot formed in her throat and she stared at the window on her side. He couldn't see her cry. If he did, that means he won. No, she wouldn't let any of them win.. never.


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: Sorry for slow updates. My muse has been crappy lately, but now I'm back on track. Enjoy!**_

The air was filled with the scent of porkroast. The room had an odd yellow color bouncing off the ceiling and walls, due to the golden-orange sun going down and shining through the windows. An elderly woman stood over a crockpot. She was cursing the meat cooking inside, since it had not turned out well at all. "Guess your dad was right when he said I can't cook meat worth a damn," she muttered, eyes shifting to a young child sitting at the wooden table. A child of about seven or eight sat on an uncomfortable and squeaky wooden chair, shovelling chocolate pudding from a cup inside her mouth. Streaks of water from old tears stained the plump, rosy, and freckled cheeks. Unbrushed red hair stuck all over the place on her small head.

"What're ya cryin' for kid?" The old woman muttered as she returned the lid to it's rightful place atop the crockpot. "My friends were being mean to again," the child mumbled and scooped more pudding into her mouth. The woman let out an irritated sigh and walked over to the table. "What did they do?" She demanded to know, crossing her arms and giving an authoratative look. The child shrunk deeper into her chair, knowing there was no escaping it. "They called me names..." she mumbled nervously, small hands gripping at her purple pants while doing so. "What names?" The woman continued to coax answers out of the girl. "Uh... uh.." her eyes began to water as she choked the words out. "U-ugly..."The tears poured down her cheeks as she let out a shaky breath and quickly rubbed them away.

"Shoot, is that it? Really, what're you crying for?" The woman turned back to her cooking. "There are lots of worse things that they could'a done to ya. Keep that in mind, don't let silly WORDS get to ya. Stand up for yourself! And if the little suckers ever try to punch ya or hit ya, you know what you do?" "N-no grandma.. what do I do?" "Ya hit 'em back twice as hard!" She exclaimed dramatically, winking a little at the child. "Daddy and mommy says no hitting though.." she mumbled. "Ah, well if they hit you then you got just as much right to hit them back. Remember that now. And if ya do get in trouble, I'll just talk to your mom and dad about it. Okay?" A smile spread across the young face, and she quickly nodded in agreement. "Okay grandma!"

Peyton squinted as bright sunshine flooded into her eyes. She had just awoken from a very long nap, longer than she expected apparently because they were nowhere near a city now. They were parked in the middle of a dusty, unpaved road. The smell of manure and animals was in the air. A lot of people would be turned off by the smell and quickly leave. Peyton didn't mind at all though. It was honestly rather refreshing. Farms were common in South Dakota, especially ones with cattle. It's not that there weren't rural areas, there were plenty of those. There were just more farms than people who lived in city areas would normally see. So in a way... cow poop reminded her of home.

"Why are we all the way out here..?" she muttered, pressing her nose against the glass to get a better look at her surrondings. Suddenly, the young man who she had been sitting in the car with before walked over and opened the door. "ACK!" She yelped as she plopped out of the car and onto the ground. "Ow... w-why did you do that?" She mumbled, sitting up and wiping the dirt off of her clothes and face. He simply jerked her upwards by the shirt so she was standing on her feet. "C'mon, let's go," he muttered as he dragged her down the winding dirt road. At the end of the road, was a quaint little country house. The paint on the house was a dull yellow and was chipping away. It could probably use a new coat or two.

A stone sign sat outside, with an ingraving on it. The words were faded as well, so everything must've been pretty old. As they got closer, she was able to make out the words on the sign. "ROCKBELL AUTOMAIL" in big letters. Automail? Peyton could only wonder what the heck that was. The young man with the glaring eyes escorted her up to the door and then knocked on it. "Anton, I'm here with the "package". Hurry up," he said to the door. Footsteps could be heard and mutterings of, "I'm comin'. Hold your horses."

The door rattled for a moment, followed by a string of curses about the "stupid door". Finally, after a few more jiggles of the aged door, it swung open and revealed a tall man. He was well built and strong looking, with a handsome face to wrap it all up nicely. Though, that handsome face had a few smears of grease on it. His hands were coated in grease as well. His apron was just covered in it, along with the tools sticking out of the pockets of said apron.

"Yo. Where is it Tobias?" The man called Anton looked left and right for a moment before his baby blue eyes landed on her. "Eh? Uh, is this it?" He motioned towards Peyton with a raised eyebrow. Peyton's eyebrows furrowed a bit, not liking to be reffered to as an "it". "Dude, you know I'm not into that kind of thing. I may be around amputees a lot, but that doesn't mean I've developed that sick fetis-" "No! This is it! Just take her already geez!" Tobias exclaimed with a flushed face. "I'm going now. Get her set up with automail. And keep her whereabouts under wraps will you? I could get into a lot of trouble if you go running your mouth online," Tobias nagged as he turned to leave. "Jeez, have a little faith will ya?" Anton huffed and watched as Tobias walked back to his car and drove off.

Peyton stood there, watching as well. Except the difference was, she was gawking at the car as it sped away. What had just happened?! Was she just dumped off in the middle of nowhere?! "U-uh.." she dared a glance at Anton. He was staring down at her. She blushed and quickly looked away. "Well... alright then let's get you measured," he said with a shrug as he began walking inside. "M-measured for what?" Peyton asked as she followed him inside. He couldn't help but grin cheekily and look back at her.

"For your new arm!"


End file.
